They say Taylor was a good girl, never one to be late complain, express ideas in her brain. Working on night shift, passing out the tickets, your gonna have to pay if you want to park here.
Well mommy's little dancer is quite a little secret Working on the streets now, never keep it. It's quite an imposition and now she's only wishin That she would have listened to the words they say...Poor Taylor.
She just wanders around, unaffected by, the winter winds yeah, she'll pretend that She's somewhere else, so and clear about two thousand miles, from here.
Well Patrick pitter patters on the window, but Sunny's silhouette won't let him in. Poor old Pete's got nothing cuz he's been falling, And somehow Sunny knows just where he's been.
He thinks that singin on Sunday's gonna save his soul, now that gone. And sometimes he thinks that he's on his way, but i can see, that his brake lights ARE on.
He just wanders unaffected by, the winter winds yeah, and he'll pretend that, he's else, so far and clear, about two thousand miles...from here
Such a tough enchilada, filled up with nada, givin what you give to get a dollar bill. Used to be a limber chick n' times have been a tickin, now she's finger lickin to the man, With the money in his pocket, flying in his rocket, only stopping by on his way to a world.
If Taylor finds a better world, then Taylor's gonna run away.